


The Hidden

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fix It, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-02-29 10:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Oh good, Desmond is glad that his entrance is now an act of gods. Not that the Isu didn'tplayat Gods, but Desmond would like to think that any real Deity would be offended by the whole sham.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who has 99 wips and just decided to throw out another one because there is a horrendous lack of Desmond/Male Assassin that isn't Esama's (brilliant) work.
> 
> So you know, gotta write my own.
> 
> I have NO idea when I'll work on this next, so apologies in advance, but I enjoyed writing this, and wanted to share it.
> 
> Enjoy~<3
> 
> (( I haven't actually finished Origins so uh, this is gonna be crazy AU, I have barely a tinkling of what I'm gonna do with this but I know it's gonna be soppy and fluffy as fuck cuz that's my signature writing style by now ))

The temple is larger than any of them thought it would be.

Of course in retrospect, if the Isu are as tall as they appear in their holograms and in Desmond's Ancestral memories, it makes sense. This space must have fit hundreds or thousands though even at the height of their population. At least, Desmond would assume considering how many paths and different areas he's found.

William (because Desmond had stopped calling him father _years_ ago) tries to drag Desmond back to the Animus and scold him for his ' _lack of determination'_ but Desmond ignores him. Eventually the man will either learn or try to punch Desmond again, and Desmond will _not_ let William hit him again.

More importantly?

Desmond doesn't want to fall prey to what the Animus could do to him again. Maybe he's immune to the degrading effects of the Animus now--and he knows Rebecca is updating and improvising on the Animus as much as possible when she's not sleeping or watching over him in the Animus--but he's not about to risk another lapse. Not another confusing and disorienting, _horrifying_ , psyche break.

Or living through his younger memories again.

Desmond shakes himself from his thoughts, and measures the distance to the next door. It's a long jump, and before when he had let most of his skills grow rusty he doubts he would have reached it. Now though he thinks he can just make it. So he rushes forward, at a run that feels more a mix of Connor and Desmond rather than just Desmond. It doesn't bother him as much as it probably should, but he has a special place for all of his Ancestors and it almost feels like they're with him in these moments.

A leap, a twist within the air that Desmond would have fucked up even several months ago, and he pushes off the side wall to increase his distance and rolls onto the landing. Which creaks alarmingly and Desmond gets back onto his feet with a quick grace. He reaches the door before the walkway starts to crumble and is through it seconds later, noticing for a brief moment a flash of gold light but let's it go. For all he knows there's a bunch of Isu machinery that might wake up here. As long as it doesn't turn on fully and effect them he doesn't want to cause a fuss over nothing.

Or have to deal with William's reaction. The man is unbearable in a _good_ mood.

Through the door is a long hallway with multiple doors. Oddly enough it looks more like a school hallway then a Temple.

Wandering the halls is a slow plod. Mostly because this part of the temple looks...Not like a school like Desmond first thought, but something more. Even more curious is the faint static feeling of Juno watching him. She usually doesn't, not when he's wandering outside her supposed Domain, he's guessing.

But now it's almost like she can barely see him.

A puzzle to solve but something Desmond doesn't worry about for now. He finds mechanical devices in the first room, nothing that looks particularly familiar. He's half tempted to touch them, examine them, and find out _what_ they are. But the last Isu devices he's touched haven't exactly given him confidence in the "Ones Who Came Before" and he keeps a respectful distance between his skin and any metal surfaces.

Even then some of them glow a familiar golden color, faint, but there. Desmond has always wondered how much Isu blood he could possibly have, but this makes him think it's far more than he had thought. _It might explain how Juno took control of me so easily_. Desmond thinks, maybe. It's hard to say, but he knows that it won't happen again even if he has to make sure his blade hits himself this time.

Not to say having a Templar double...triple? Agent was a good thing, but it certainly would have been better if Juno had just _told_ him.

Desmond shakes his head, takes one last look over the machinery. Even if he knew how to bring all of this downstairs, he doesn't think anything would help him. He may cheat by focusing on his Eagle Senses, but they have rarely failed him or his Ancestors before.

Now they don't seem to either, Desmond's gaze shows very little gold and the one machine that _does_ flickers between gold and red. So, Desmond avoids that long cylinder like object with lines of pure gold across it, with particular caution.

The next room doesn't have much in it, the pungent scent of old chemicals, and bottles and bottles of liquids, animal parts, and well. If Desmond is being honest, it looks like an alchemists lab. His Eagle Senses don't need to raise more than a whisper before he's taking a step back from certain tables, and examining things that don't make his head hurt from the invisible and mental squawking.

Again Desmond leaves without taking anything, and he's half tempted to go back. It might be because of the sensation of being watched, that static feeling of Juno, has increased in pressure ten fold as if she's pushing against something. (wherever she is) Or perhaps it's his eagle senses are keen after so many years in his Ancestor's lives, or he's unconsciously counted the time and knows it's been to long. But he wants to do something _here_ and _now_ where he's not left in an Animus until his brain is breaking itself thanks to his _father_. Or where his supposed allies and maybe friends listen to his father over Desmond's own well being.

Desmond swallows tightly and rubs at his face before continuing on. No reason to muddle his thoughts with depressing shit. He's not one to mop for long, and even if he's curious there's also a hint of...something.

Eagle Senses are complicated, and it's not exactly like Desmond has a manual, even with all the things he's learned in the Animus. But there's definitely a hint of importance. The first had been a trap, Desmond doesn't even want to know what would have happened to him if he had picked up the odd cylindrical machinery, but past that is something pulling him.

Now further into the long hallway it's almost easier to feel. A little to the right but...not the third room, or the fourth, the fifth feels almost right.

Desmond enters it warily, and looks around. His vision going from color to a mild gray with bright blue, red, and gold in parts. He can barely see the red of his father through the wall at this distance and the faded out blue almost gray of Rebecca and Shane. Clearly his little adventure has stirred the nest, but that's not as important as what's in front of him.

"Desmond don't touch it. Don't you dare!"

Desmond jolts, looking around for Juno but the woman-goddess--Isu isn't here. The static pulsing is getting stronger, and there's something else pulling her back. But...his Eagle Sense gleams and urges him forward.

If Desmond hasn't learned to trust himself yet, well, he will be calling himself an idiot. He should have trusted his senses when he ran from the Farm, should have listened when the Templar's captured him, and should have listened when he saw William Miles again.

This time Desmond _listens,_ and _his hand is placed palm first against the orb of the world glowing bright in the center of the room. The world lights up and shines taking Desmond in a flurry of light._

  


  


When Desmond reappears he's dizzy. Disoriented. Unsure of what is happening. But he does know a blade when he sees it. Diving forward is almost instinct. Only after he moves does he see why he's going _toward_ _s_ the blade. There's a child there. A small child that needs protecting.

So, Desmond protects. He knocks the blade up with a hand, and it's pure luck that the momentum helps him from cutting his flesh, to the _red_ glow across his eyes. There's another blade and he spins the boy and himself away, kicking out and his--sandal? no focus, Desmond scolds himself--sandal hits the man's arm, there's not so much as a snap but a soft give which Desmond knows from the Animus means there is no doubt at least a fracture if not a break in the arm bone.

Another man speaks in a tongue that Desmond isn't familiar with, thought he longer he listens the more he understands. Something like _Devilry_ and _Set_ and _Still kill_.

The poor kid is crying and Desmond rubs his back, "I have you."

"Do not ~~ away ~~ me!" Another shout, this time far too close for comfort.

Desmond pushes the kid behind him and it's pure luck that the alloy of his modern Assassin's blade keeps up with the larger sword that comes at him. The slide and sound make Desmond grit his teeth, and he pushes himself forward. He presses his middle fingers on his left hand to his palm, and grimaces when his second blade appears to be missing. Or did he take it off before he started exploring?

Either way that was a mistake. His other blade good metal or not is still smaller than the gigantic--copper? Iron? blade of his opponent. Either he dodges with the kid and chances a blade in his side, or he lets the kid take the hit. The second option isn't even an option, and Desmond prepares himself. Wherever he is he doubts he will be able to get to a hospital in time. Even at his surliest he knows Rebecca and Shaun would have already found him if he was near them, so he has to assume he's alone.

A deep breath, a slow exhale and then Desmond pushes his right arm forward making the man stumble for a moment; he turns and grabs the kid by the scruff of his shirt. Moves to the left as fast as possible, and waits for the pain.

Which doesn't come.

Desmond lands over the kid, and he looks back to see a man with a familiar face--well not very familiar but there are some features--his lips, his eyes...that are familiar.

Who is staring right at Desmond. With wild eyes and blood covering his face and naked chest.

It shouldn't be so appealing, but Desmond feels his lips part and the awkward moment where he's actually interested in the man. A stranger who he has no idea about or who may very well kill him too.

"You, where is my son? ~~ Khemu, Khemu." Ah, the man is crying now, his hands shaking and the sword pointed at Desmond's legs.

At least the man is coherent enough to not try and kill Desmond where the sword might hit his son.

"Dad, Bayek, daddy." The kid, Khemu Desmond assumes, cries and scrambles from out under Desmond.

Only the man--Bayek's quick reflexes stop Khemu from leaping to close to the sword's edge, and then they're crying and hugging eachother. Bayek repeatedly saying _sorry_ over and over. His breath heavy with heaving sobs.

Desmond suddenly wishes he was anywhere else but here. He also can't help feel a little jealousy. They clearly love eachother immensely and Bayek had killed for his son, had cried for him. He's not so sure William would considering the man gave him his first scar. Desmond shakes himself from thoughts that aren't going to help him right now, and carefully stands up. He takes a quiet step back, at the least all that time in the Animus had given him some skills that let him _survive_ in real life, and tries to scan for a way out. They are in some sort of tomb? Maybe? Desmond's sure this place has some similarities to a few ancient civilization's he's seen in documentaries, and Shaun's ridiculously large databases, but it's not clicking right now.

"You do not have to fear me." Bayek says.

Well, looks like someone _also_ has a good training system. Though from the look of things--no, Desmond isn't even going to contemplate it. Even if it makes some sense. "I," Desmond pauses because he doesn't speak the language, even if he somehow understands it.

"You?" Bayek tilts his head, hand still softly patting his son as if he can't help himself.

Apparently Desmond _can_ suddenly speak the language. He refrains from rubbing his forehead. Somehow this is something to do with the damn Isu. He knows better by now, but needing to be _out_ and _away_ from the group and his father in particular... He gives in and presses his fingers against his nose.

"Are you alright? Daddy, he might be hurt. He saved me." Khemu says and it sounds like a childish order to _make sure he's not hurt_.

Admittedly, Desmond is charmed, and even more so when he opens his eyes to see Bayek in front of him. The flutter in his stomach is not something he wants to feel, but he let's it go. It's been a long day, and months, so what if his admiration for a man who knows how to be a father has him starting to crush? Desmond isn't sure he's had a crush on anyone who hasn't been dead for literal years.

"I thank you for taking care of my son. I owe you a debt as Medjay of Egypt I will make sure to repay you as best as I can, as long as it does not interfere with Egypt." Bayek continues, either ignoring or not seeing the face Desmond is making. His eyes are downward, his fingers pressing carefully against the cloth that Desmond wears.

  


Desmondswallows tightly and ignores the press of fingers. He is not going to lose it over a soft touch that's been gentler than he's actually felt with anyone in the past several months. Instead he focuses on what Bayek said. Egypt, _Egypt_ , somehow that thing had sent him to Egypt, and probably not present Egypt, considering the man didn't speak arabic. Perhaps Coptic? But it didn't sound quite like the bits of Coptic that Desmond knew. And shit he had to say something, "I--I don't need anything. I'm glad your son is safe." He admits honestly. Mostly honestly.

Desmond can't exactly just say that he needs help getting back home if his suspicions are right. He has vague recollections of what a Medjay is and that isn't helping his suspicions at all. Damn, if he ever gets back home he is never touching another Isu object. Or going anywhere near them alive or cybernetic or dead.

"Daddy, he can come home with us, right?" Khemu says, tugging on Bayek's tunic, and then leans forward in no doubt is supposed to be a child's whisper says, "His clothes look like he's homeless."

"Khemu." Bayek says with an exhaled breath. He sounds embarrassed by his child's words.

Desmond himself hasn't actually seen his clothes, not really the most important thing today. But he looks down and yeah, okay, Isu always had a sense of humor. He's not wearing something he would go out in, but it does make him look a little. Well, a little, homeless. Or at least not in the best state of things. "I'm fine, really." Now, Desmond is lying through his teeth. If he's wearing this then he doesn't even have his cellphone most likely, a quick pat down which must look strange, and no he does not. _Well, shit_.

"It is the least I can do, give you a place to stay that is. You look f-fine." Bayek stutters on the last word.

 _Not like I have a place I can stay_. Desmond gives in with a nod, "Alright, if it's not too much trouble." He still has no idea how he speaks the words, they _almost_ come to him like Coptic but not quite. They sound different. Like there's no hint of Greek to them? He internally rolls his eyes at himself, _Good things to focus on Desmond_.

"Good, good." Bayek nods, once, twice, stares at Desmond a little more, and then turns and lifts Khemu in one swoop. "I am so glad you are alright my son." He says so tenderly that Desmond once again feels like an intruder.

"Me too." Khemu says, and then squawks when his belly his layered with kisses. "Stop! You're embarrassing me!" Khemu whines.

From the look of things though, Desmond doesn't think Khemu actually wants his dad to stop playing with him. He wonders what that's like, having a healthy and non-brutal relationship with a father. One where it's not all about training.

Unfortunately the moment is broken by Bayek catching sight of Desmond's staring, and he smiles weakly, "Ah, sorry, stranger, I did not mean to be distracted, I am just so relieved."

"It's...it's good to see." Desmond offers, awkwardly. He really wishes he knew where the exit was. Maybe it would be rude, but he really wants this conversation to be over with.

A narrowing of eyes, and Bayek nods slowly before hefting Khemu into a more comfortable position, "This way, I do not know how the Gods allowed you in, through that bright light I believe, but the mortal way is through here."

 _Oh good_ , Desmond is glad that his entrance is now an act of gods. Not that the Isu didn't _play_ at Gods, but Desmond would like to think that any real Deity would be offended by the whole sham. He puts those thoughts aside, and follows Bayek and Khemu. It takes a bit of effort, these sandals are somewhat threadbare, and unlike his sneakers are not quite meant for quick or easy footwork. He's just lucky they seem to hold so well or he would be walking barefoot like Bayek.

Considering how hot it is when the sun finally reaches them, Desmond isn't sure how the man is walking barefoot. Or how they can see anything. He has to cover his eyes and adjust, the glint of light against sand makes it worse somehow.

"Here, let me lead you." Bayek says, and before Desmond can say _just give me a few minutes I'll be fine_ , a warm calloused hand is sliding into his own and he grasps it instinctively.

It's a nice hand, strong, and firm with muscle. Desmond is sure whatever a Medjay is they're not one for idling around. He follows at a slow pace, the sand isn't quite like beach sand and it's hard to walk on it at first, he stumbles several times in a row.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey, another chapter shocking!
> 
> Also, I just want to be clear that 99% of this fic is literally a fix it about Khemu and Bayek (and of course Aya because she's also Khemu's mother) but also just Bayek and Desmond getting together.
> 
> I don't know how much of the actual parts leading up to where I am in the game /spoilers/ ///(After they open Alexander's tomb) /// I'll add but no doubt I'll at least add enough so that there's some semblance of closure to Bayek and Aya's journey that started with Khemu.
> 
> Ah, I feel like I'm forgetting something but I can't remember what.
> 
> Ah, yeah, this is super self indulgent, it's chill.
> 
> Also minor angst because apparently I couldn't not add that.
> 
> Enjoy~

Desmond _knows_ this isn't the present. Even if he wasn't at least somewhat familiar with the foreign countries of the world, he can't see Egypt looking like _this_. Dirt roads, women walking with baskets and wearing clothing that would probably make a few people's heads spin (not that it doesn't effect Desmond, he looks away the instant he sees breasts the first time because it's just a little _strange_ ).

Camels, _actual fucking Camels_ are just grazing, hell there are some type of horned animal takes Desmond a few moments to realize is a _fucking Antelope_ , if Desmond cheats with his eagle vision, he swears he can see crocodiles laying there in the underbrush and near the river. Not just one or two that he assumes are on the banks of the Niles in present day Egypt but at least six on the side near wherever they are, and another three in the water if his vision is accurate.

"Hey, hey," Oh, and Desmond barely stops himself from tripping, and really it's mostly because Bayek grips his arm tight and gently pushes his son away from Desmond's weirdly layered pants.

"Now, Khemu, that is not how you get someone's attention. You ask them politely." Bayek says, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips and still a look in his eyes. As if he's waiting for Khemu to disappear right in front of him.

Desmond realizes after that he's still using eagle vision, and closes his eyes from the slowly blue-edging gold of Bayek's inner self, and then opens them to look at Khemu, "It's-" The words come a little easier this time but Desmond still stutters, "alright, I know what it's like to have excitable children around." He had taken a job as a day care assistant once. For a few months. Nothing like keeping Assassin skills at tip top shape by making sure kids didn't get hurt or messed around in paints, or fell out of a swing. It's probably what got the Templar's attention, his ridiculous skills were a mix of a blessing and curse while he had been hiding.

Bayek's smile grows even more genuine, "You have children of your own?"

Khemu actually frowns up at Desmond, "But you're younger than Daddy." He looks Desmond up and down.

"I-no, no kids." Desmond tries not to frown back at Khemu. His children-interactions have been rare since the day care and it's not exactly like they met a lot of children while running from Templar's and using the Animus. The children in the Animus certainly didn't count.

Khemu nods seriously and his frown disappears, "What's your name? I can't keep calling you stranger."

"Khemu," Bayek sighs, and rubs at the bridge of his nose.

 _It's a beautiful nose_ , Desmond thinks, _It accentuates_ _his face_. He realizes what he's thinking about and groans internally. He is _not_ finding a random stranger in the past attractive. He's already muddled enough he's sure.

Another insistent tug on Desmond's threadbare pants from Khemu, "Name." He insists. Adorably, he has a pout on his lips.

"Desmond." Desmond offers because he forgot just how _weak_ kids made him. Unfortunately there's no hope of retracting it, at least if it was just the kid, perhaps, but a Medjay seems important, and from the way Bayek acts, no Desmond doubts the man will forget his name anytime soon.

"D-e-s-men." Bayek ends with a _meen_ and butchered name or not Desmond nods encouragingly. Bayek narrows his eyes and tries again, "Des-meen" He fails again, though the first part comes sooner.

Khemu joins in, "Desmeen. Desmeen from Siwa," Khemu says cheerfully.

 _From Siwa_ , sounds concerning, and from the cough and ducking crouch Bayek does to get at eye-level with Khemu, he's not happy about it either. "Khemu, he is not from Siwa, you cannot choose someone else a home."

"He's going to live with us." Khemu says and he looks near tears sudden and quick.

"Oh, Khemu, love," Bayek hefts Khemu into his arms and the boy fights for a moment before starting to sob into his shoulder. He gives Desmond a brief apologetic expression and slowly starts rocking Khemu. All of his attention is on the boy, though, he does start walking again.

Desmond follows, feeling all the more awkward but a warmth fills his chest at how Bayek treats his son. Rarely has he seen good fathers but the man clearly loves his son.

Not once does Bayek yell or demand Khemu to stop his tears. Instead he hums low and soothing, kisses the boys head intermittently, and says gentle things almost too low for Desmond to hear. "You are my brave crocodile aren't you? A true warrior of Horus, we will sacrifice an Antelope to him for his blessings on you my son."

Eventually, either through exhaustion or the lull of his father's steps and voice, Khemu falls into a slumber that is shaky and quiet huffs of breath that turn into sobs at random. A few minutes of quiet fill the air between the three, and then Bayek starts walking beside of Desmond instead of in front, and he gives Desmond a brief look, "I apologize I did not think...Of course he would become attached to the God's gift to us."

Desmond doesn't know how to think about _that_. If he's ever been referred to as a gift it's been mocking (the Templars) or sarcastically. Hell, he's pretty sure even the Isu didn't consider him a gift so much as a _tool_. "It's fine." He says, because what else can he say?

Bayek gives him a look as if he can see right through him, and his lips form a small smile, almost a smirk, "I suppose I will have to prove to you that you are a gift. Clearly someone has not treated you well." It's so blunt and open that it takes Desmond a moment to realize Bayek's already walking again.

There's protestations in his mind, but Desmond is flummoxed. Once again he's left speechless. This time with a heat to his cheeks and the urge to follow someone else because Bayek's words are so _sure_. Not in a way that the Templar's crazed views were or the unrelenting truth of the Assassin's but as someone who know some type of peace inside of himself. Somehow it ends up with Desmond following Bayek in silence and a warmth in his chest that he finds uncomfortable and yet doesn't want to vanish.

  


Siwa wherever it is, isn't nearby at least it's not this village. Desmond finds out the hard way. The walk makes even his sandal-ed feet hurt. He's almost grateful when Bayek settles down to rest near a small stream that he uses to wash Khemu's still sleeping face, hands, legs, and arms. "You can drink this water." He says after a few minutes.

Desmond startles. He's still trying to ease the ache in his legs and feet, stretching them out again and again. He's also trying desperately not to stare at Bayek.

The man is covered in sweat but he doesn't look at all like the walk tired him. In fact Desmond's sure if he wasn't here the man could go on for another day without wavering.

Then Desmond realizes he's been staring too long at the man's hands and body his eyes snap up to that calm face, "I...It's safe?" He knows all about parasites and unsafe drinking water but he gives the stream a brief glance. The man wouldn't lie to him, hell he used the water to clean off his _son_ , and if nothing else the man seems quite knowledgeable at least more than Desmond anticipated. (He winces internally at that thought, as if somehow being from the future makes him smarter or better than this man)

"Safer than the river water. At least near here." Bayek grimaces at the river, "It is not as clean as it used to be. The Greeks have made it rather unclean with their lack of knowledge." He shakes his head, "There are parts at least that are cleaner, and we have techniques to keep it clean."

"Techniques?" Desmond gets up to his feet and barely bites back a groan. His muscles twinge at him angrily. Clearly the battle from before and the long walk hasn't been easy on a body that spends the majority of it's time prone.

"Seeds, mostly. Moringa or Baq seeds, sand and sun, sometimes heated copper or iron though I do not like the taste of such water, a type of sulfur..." Bayek trails off and watches him and under his gaze Desmond feels like he's doing more than drinking water. "It--cleans the water."

The water is actually refreshing and tastes better than Desmond expects. He takes another cupped hand to his mouth, most of the liquid drips between his fingers and down his chin and across his neck. A flash of embarrassment runs through him, he must look a mess, but at least Bayek has the decency to look away, even if Desmond can swear he sees a hint of tongue gracing Bayek's bottom lip for a second--maybe the man is thirsty?

Before Desmond can really think his next words carefully, "I can hold him, if you need to drink." He swallows and his tongue fumbles when his eyes track pecs that swell with each breath--fit and he knows from experience they would either feel soft or hard from muscle, and at the glistening sweat that pearls at the soft relaxed nipples, "You look like you need some water." He says in a rush, forcefully pulling his gaze up, and trying to bite back the grimace. He's not used to finding someone so attractive _and_ nice (and what that says about his dating and friendship history is not even worth mentioning).

Bayek holds Khemu tighter to his chest--which gets a sleepy protest from his son, before he relaxes and once again that tiny smirk appears, "I could use hydration of a type." With that cryptic message the man offers Khemu with a careful hold.

Being an Assassin means Desmond knows this has a hidden meaning, it's not a hard one to figure out, but for some reason it still makes his throat tighten, and he carefully lifts Khemu out of Bayek's arms. Holding the boy close to his chest and trying not to greedily take in the way Bayek kneels.

Or the way that the sweat that drips off him has wet his clothing and while not see-through Desmond can see easily enough the curves of Bayek's body. It takes everything in Desmond to keep his gaze upwards, after the first few seconds, and he regrets looking at Bayek longer if only because...

Because Bayek drinks the water as if it is the best thing in the world. His lips just barely parted, fluid drips from his chin down his neck, and his sculpted arms have lines of water across them. His eyes are barely open and Desmond _swears_ the man looks at him during the whole thing.

Desmond has never been harder in his life, and he's very glad that the cloth he's wearing is layered, or he may have a very awkward situation on his hands.

Of course then Bayek stands, still gleaming in the sunlight like a God, and takes Khemu from Desmond's hands, their skin brushing in the most charged way possible for so little contact.

"Thank you, Desmeen." Bayek murmurs. He's so close that Desmond can feel the words, barely, against his lips.

"Yeah...ah, no problem." Desmond replies, and he follows Bayek in a daze for the next half hour. Still reeling and trying desperately not to stare. The man can't be swaying his hips on purpose, Desmond's just apparently _sex starved_ and tries to forget about the way the man smirks, it's just his expression--Desmond clearly needs some alone time with his hand. And to memorize the man's features like this for said alone time.

  


When they reach Siwa it's dark and enough that the stars and moon are visible. "It is good that Thoth watches over our travels." Bayek says when the moon appears in the horizon.

Desmond assumes Thoth is something to do with the Moon, but he's still trying to get his body to move and so doesn't ask. He never realized before now that he is so out of shape. Perhaps not for short distances or for Assassinations, but who knows with his luck he may very well need stamina of this sort. If he ever gets back, and he shies away from those thoughts for the moment.

But, finally, they reach Siwa. The streets are mostly empty, and everyone who is out waves to Bayek, or bows, or calls out a kind greeting.

Disorienting, but Desmond doesn't mind it terribly much, the people don't seem curious about him or if they are they hide it well. He gets niceties but nothing quite like what Bayek gets.

"Bayek." A woman appears in one of the houses, close to them. She is absolutely stunning, with corded hair pulled into a short ponytail. She also smiles at Bayek in a way that makes Desmond's stomach sour.

Bayek smiles at her like well--fondness, clearly, and maybe love.

Desmond swallows tightly around the lump in his throat. It takes him a few moments to realize he's _jealous_. Then of course comes all those moments on the road to _wh_ _y_ he was jealous. The water against skin, Bayek's body still slightly damp from sweat, and that damn _smile_. The feelings he had thought were just mere attraction have clearly grown in such a short amount of time it's almost embarrassing.

"Aya, we--he's alive." Bayek offers his son up without any hesitation.

Which makes Desmond's stomach grow even heavier. He's royally screwed and heart-screwed. Well, _shit_.

"Khemu, Khemu, my boy," Aya murmurs with such love that Desmond admits he feels like an utter _douche_. They clearly love eachother and are a good family. And here Desmond is upset and jealous because he can't have someone. He can already feel the disapproval of his Ancestors (even if he's _pretty sure_ that's not the bleed effect and just his head fucking with him).

Khemu wakes briefly and sputters at the kisses given to his face, and he's clearly too sleepy to do more than murmur "Stooooppp" before he realizes it's Aya and hugs her as tightly as he can considering he's still half asleep. The kid falls back into slumber almost immediately after his head falls onto her shoulder.

Aya chuckles wetly and kisses Khemu's head again before smiling up at Bayek and then Desmond. Which her gaze sharpens on immediately.

Desmond knows almost instantly that Aya is a dangerous woman, just as dangerous as Bayek. And he knows if he had any ill intentions, he would lose. Not that he wouldn't also lose (and possibly _willingly_ ) to Bayek.

"And this," Bayek adds looking at Desmond in a way that makes Desmond's stomach swoop guiltily, "Is Desmeen."

"Oh?" Aya asks, raising a brow, "Why is Desmeen here?"

"A gift from the Gods, he saved our son." Bayek voice is full of wonder, and his eyes shine with an inner light. Almost as if--well, Desmond could swear it was the light of Eagle Vision but how likely is it that he's meeting an assassin?

After a moment of thought, Desmond is sure he's just spent the last almost-day with an Assassin in the past. His life is just too fucked up _not_ to have met an Assassin immediately after coming here.

Aya looks at Desmond with a new light and just like Bayek walks closer, "You are a blessing onto our houses, Aya of Siwa, Khemu of Siwa and Bayek of Siwa all owe you a debt. The last of the Medjay unless it goes against Egypt's safety are here for you." She murmurs, her words are low but strong with a steel determination to her eyes that makes Desmond sure that if he asked them to move the Nile they would find a way.

Bayek nods and his gaze is just as fiercely intense.

"I don't--I'm fine." Desmond says again, feebly. He feels like a mouse under both of their gazes, perhaps one on one he could handle, but together? He can understand why they are the Medjay of Egypt. He can't imagine anyone escaping their wraith, or, he looks at Khemu carefully held in Aya's grip, their sadness and love.

"That is not quite true, Desmeen, he needs a place to stay." Bayek says, wrapping an arm around Desmond's shoulders.

The feel of his slightly damp skin, the muscle and warmth of him. Desmond's tongue fumbles once again and he tries to regain his composure. He's relieved that unlike Ezio's lighter tone, he has dark skin like Altair and Connor, and blushes are harder to see on his cheeks.

Aya gives them an appraising look and her smile is disturbingly similar to Bayek's smirk, "Ah, I see." She says and doesn't elaborate on what exactly she _sees_ , "Then you will share Bayek's bed, no?" She turns before Desmond can sputter a response. Disappearing into the beaded curtain that leads into the house with Khemu.

There's a momentary silence, and Bayek clears his throat and let's out a low chuckle, "Aya enjoys teasing me, I apologize if she offended you, but you are welcome to share my bed as friend only."

With that mixed message and even _more_ confusion and guilty-arousal filling Desmond's body, the man leaves him alone in front of the house.

"Well, I'm fucked." Desmond murmurs, "I hope you're happy." He says to the sky, not that Isu _are_ Gods, but it's not like he has a nearby Isu temple to yell at them.

Except there's a loud squawk in reply and Desmond startles, looking around and eyes finally settling on an...eagle? Sitting carefully and elegantly on the roof of the house.

A beautiful one at that, staring straight at Desmond with golden eyes that can't be normal for a bird, no matter the breed, they shine too brightly sort of like...

Desmond narrows his eyes at the eagle.

The Eagle squawks again and Desmond _swears_ he understands the bird, understands that the eagle is saying _Why are you yelling at the sky_ _?_ _Ra is_ _with the sun, the underworld where he strives to reach us once again._

Desmond rubs at his brows, he's clearly losing it. He's listening to a bird and clearly the Animus has royally fucked him up. Maybe this is all just a malfunction of the Animus. For all he knows he _is_ related to Bayek, which is a thought he doesn't want or need.

Again, another squawk, and this time it is _Do not harm my partner._

Whatever that means, and Desmond is starting to have suspicions. Ones he won't focus on now. Not when he's still reeling over the accumulation of the day. Without any other option--except sleeping out in the streets. Considering the river is even closer in Siwa he's not ready to sleep with only an Assassin's blade where a crocodile could get to him. With a sigh and a muster of strength that, yes, okay he _does_ for a moment ask Thoth, whoever he is, for some semblance of balance, he walks inside the house.

Warmth fills the air, and there's the sound of voices and for some reason, Desmond's eagle senses softly say _home_. He doesn't even notice the shine of the moon growing bright behind him, or the way the eagle, for a moment, has a ghostly reflection beside it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head is absolutely _killing_ me when it comes to trying to write tonight and so here have chapter 3 which I was saving until I got chapter four done but writing is currently kicking my ass as I try to figure out what exactly I want to focus on original writing wise -sighs- writing original porn is so much easier than trying to figure out what I want to write as a novel length erotica/romance/fantasy story.
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy ~<3
> 
> (No idea when chapter four will come out cuz holy shit I don't normally write 2-3k words in a day)

Desmond is sorely mistaken if he thought he was just going to sleep. No, the two Medjay seem to be serious about their debts.

Bayek is already at the wood-stove and oven cooking things that make Desmond's stomach growl and his mouth water. There's the scent of meat, spices like cumin, and he swears he sees a jar overflowing with olives before Bayek sweeps it out of sight.

Aya sits with him, Khemu still in her arms as if she will never grow tired of holding her son. "Bayek is the real cook between us." She tells Desmond who is sitting across from her at the small wooden table.

"Huh." Desmond says, because he had just sort of assumed...well, Aya's of course a fighter, he can tell that much, but perhaps his culture had colored his conceptions of what the past life would be like. Especially considering Egyptians were okay with queer people, at least right now, he grimaces at the thought of future Egypt.

Aya laughs, and doesn't appear offended by Desmond's surprise, "I know, the Greeks look at us the same way, think we are savages for those women who are in positions of power. It is why they still do not understand our female Pharaoh's."

"Queens." Bayek says with amusement, he's still working at the stove but he's clearly listening in.

"Asif our Queens are not also Pharaohs," Aya's voice is mild with only a minor hint of anger. Her whole body is relaxed though and she looks more amused than truly angry. "You should do well to remember that."

"Of course, and you are so keen on this Pharaoh of yours." Bayek murmurs, his amusement has burned to embers but he doesn't seem against it per-say.

"Cleopatra has much potential. She may very well save our nation." Aya replies, and then soothes Khemu who appears to be waking.

"No...no fighting." Khemu whines.

"No fighting, Aya." Bayek agrees and ducks his shoulders when Aya gives him a glare.

Desmond barely refrains from laughing aloud. He wonders if this is what it would be like with the Miles side of the family that wasn't Williams. Unfortunately by his father's time the Altair line had diminished greatly. He has no idea about anyone on that side of the family. No desire to stay with his mother's side considering they were an odd mix of Civilian and Assassin. He can't quite imagine hiding all of it--He had tried with a few flings, and not speaking of his past had _burned_. The one time he _had_ had _burned Desmond_ , so he had stayed far away from Civilians after that.

Aya rolls her eyes, and huffs a low deep chuckle, "Of course," She murmurs and rocks Khemu carefully. "No fighting with your father, I promise."

"G-good..." Again the boy is back to sleep and Desmond would be more worried if his parents didn't seem to be perfectly content with the arrangement. Perhaps they were used to him sleeping frequently or the day had been fraught and terrifying enough, Desmond can't imagine the luxury since kidnap lessons were not exactly a fun affair in the past.

Which makes him wonder--they must be suspicious of him, aren't they? Desmond can't imagine just accepting that he's the will of their Gods. The idea of religion has always been a hazy unbelief, because _Nothing is true_ , _everything is permitted_ had been drilled into his head as young as they could. It made for some interesting re-visions later on. Possibly why Desmond didn't take the Assassin's as seriously, he has never enjoyed something without proof.

The Farm kept that proof from sight, and Desmond is getting side tracked, "You trust me so easily." Leaves his lips before he can censor himself, but part of him sees this happy family and doesn't want them to risk themselves. Not that he doubts their devotion. He's pretty sure not even a Pharaoh could stop these two from finding justice.

Bayek glances at him and his stirring of whatever smells so good hits a pause, "Do you believe I did not measure your strength and find me lacking for retaliation?"

Aya nods, "You have one blade on your wrist, and though Khemu is in my lap you have already shown a need to protect our child." She glances at him, "If anything _you_ would be at a disadvantage. You do not know the area if what Bayek has told me is anything, and you appear lost. A true mystery, but you look Egyptian, well for the most part. You feature some traits from further east." Her eyes scan his face, and Desmond doesn't know exactly what she picks up that scream _not Egyptian_ to her, but he supposes they would know.

They are Medjay of Egypt after all.

"Right." Desmond says, and can't say if he feels better or worse at their odd reassurances.

"Shejust speaks to ease your disquiet with our calm with you." Bayek says, and a light tap indicates one of several plates being placed onto the table. Like most of the utensils and items here the materials used are either clay or copper--Desmond isn't curious enough to upend the plates of their food-- and Bayek then sets down several cups. "Drink, I know you must desire some fluids." He says, the way his eyes linger on Desmond is...

Desmond has felt exposed many times through his life, and none more so than when the Templars had found him and ripped him away from a peaceful life, but he thinks this moment now might beat all the others. He's not oblivious, no matter what Shaun liked to say, and he's realizing far too late that perhaps the man in front of him _has_ been flirting with him. In fact is still flirting with him. Desmond swallows tightly and keeps eye contact with Bayek. How could he break it?

Even when Aya starts eating.

Bayek sits down.

Yet neither of them break contact. In fact, Desmond doesn't want to be _that guy_ but he honestly thinks he could forget Aya was there right across from him if there wasn't the soft touch of utensil against plate and cup against wood.

Bayek also doesn't seem to mind that his...wife? Lover? (Desmond has no clue and he _really wishes he did_ ) sits beside him. Then, _then_ the man picks up his own cup and drinks from it slow and carefully, the hint of fluid wetting his bottom lip, his eyes still peering at Desmond.

In all other circumstances, Desmond is sure he wouldn't like this experience at all, with any other person. But it feels oddly intimate and, alright, he will say it, arousing as fuck. Once again he's trying not to fill his mind with all the crude images he can think of. Specifically starting with that _mouth_ , and Bayek's face under his-- _No,_ Desmond reins in those thoughts and pointedly glances at Aya.

Bayek pulls away the cup in an instant.

A small part of Desmond is disappointed and hurt. Of course Bayek would come to his senses, that is what Desmond _wants_. Except perhaps for that part--that _majority_ that really doesn't want that to happen at all.

"Aya," Bayek says.

Desmond's eyes widen, and he can't help looking at Aya, feeling flustered and all kinds of awkward when she looks up with a raised brow and a slight frown.

"Yes Dear?" Aya asks, and there is a cool tone.

No need for Eagle Vision or Senses, Desmond knows somehow the cool tone is directed at him. Which is not exactly how he wants tonight to end, a fight is the last thing he wants, and actually he would rather this whole day _not_ happen. Except his eyes fall on Khemu, and perhaps no--he couldn't wish for the boy's possible death, that's not something Desmond could live with.

"It appears I am either misreading the situation and Desmeen wants to bed you," Bayek starts.

Desmond sputters, "No, no, no offense Aya, you are beautiful but _no_."

Aya's reserved expression relaxes slightly and there is that damn smirk again.

Even Bayek is starting to smirk again, and only now does Desmond realize the man had been just as blank as Aya a few seconds ago, "Or he appears to think we are wed."

Aya bursts into sudden laughter that causes several things at once; Bayek joins in in an uproarious way that makes the table shake, Khemu wakes up with a yelp, and Desmond startles and stares at both of them with wide eyes and gaping mouth.

"You, you? You Camel? Never in my years would a man such as yourself be able to handle _me_." Aya chokes out, soothing Khemu who is _quite_ awake now.

"As if you are any better with your Crocodile teeth," Bayek heaves in a breath and leans against the table to support himself, "And if I ever were interested in women."

"If I was ever interested in men." Aya says almost right over Bayek.

They look at eachother and then giggle helplessly.

Desmond keeps staring, and feels like he touched another Isu artifact. He also can't stop the hot flush against his cheeks, and once again is glad for his dark skin, but he clasps fingers together and tries not to think anything else. Not the embarrassed slight anger (It's _good_ that they're not together, and he knows the laughter isn't directly at him, at least not now), or the hope that's starting to grow into ridiculous proportions, or the way that both Aya and Bayek are beautiful in their laughter. And yes, okay, Desmond _does_ watch Bayek and his heart flutters and his smile is genuine even in his embarrassment.

Bayek looks like a freshly cloudy day, with rain having already sprinkled, a lightness to the air that always makes Desmond feel content. The smell of water in the air, and damp vegetation. It's one of the best feelings in the world and Desmond abruptly knows he is absolutely _smitten_ with this man.

Then Khemu clambers into Desmond's lap and pulls his attention away. "Hungry." Khemu mutters, yawning into Desmond's chest.

Desmond snorts, and picks up a spoon. He doesn't necessarily _mean_ to feed the kid, but he supposes you never quite forget how to feed a child.

Soon enough a sleepy but slowly wakening Khemu is accepting mouthfuls of stew with a greedy hunger that makes Desmond's own belly rumble.

"Khemu, I could have fed you." Aya says, it's not much of a scolding considering she's still smiling, and her eyes are bright on Desmond. "Do you need help?"

Usually Desmond would say _no_ but his stomach rumbles again, and whatever is in the stew smells _really_ good. The liquid is thick with meat so much so that Desmond really can't tell what's solid and not, and whatever spices Bayek put in blend well together if Khemu's loud swallows are any indication."Please," He says and carefully shifts Khemu so the kid stops pressing his elbow against Desmond's sternum. All bones, kids, no matter fed well or not.

What Desmond expects is Aya or Bayek to give him a hand with Khemu.

Instead, what _happens_ is Bayek comes to Desmond's side, takes the chair and sits _very close_ , and holds up a spoon to Desmond's mouth, "Eat, you haven't all day, and even one that has come from divinity must eat now and again." He says. His eyes are warm and the spoon presses to Desmond's lips.

Before Desmond can muster the protests in his mind, his lips are parting and the pleasure that runs through him at the way Bayek's eyes heat up is _indecent_. He opens his mouth without a hint of resistance, and he loses track of everything but the way Bayek looks at him.

The way Bayek says, almost a whisper, leaning close so even Khemu cannot hear, "Taste then swallow."

Desmond has never been more turned on in his _life_. He also has to taste the stew and it is _delicious_ but pales in comparison to the sudden lust that clouds his mind. He swallows slightly and licks his lips, because payback is fair, and honestly at this point all bets are off. If he doesn't get to fuck Bayek, or _be_ fucked by Bayek soon he may very well murder someone. He's done it before, and he's pretty damn sure sex with this _god_ is good enough reason.

Bayek smiles at him, and then he spoons another mouthful and raises it to Desmond's lips.

It's an odd train of food, Khemu, thankfully positioned in Desmond's lap so the kid won't _ever_ get in contact with Desmond's more interested parts, being fed by Desmond, and Desmond being fed by Bayek, who feeds himself small pieces of his stew inbetween bites. Admittedly the first time he replaces Desmond's mouth with his own on his spoon, Desmond loses track of time, and maybe spends a little too long holding onto said spoon afterwards in his own mouth.

(Desmond is willing to admit at least in his own mind that he has it _bad._ And even his very close friends, the few he had before the Templars, would tell him so point blank.)

But Aya doesn't laugh, Bayek surely doesn't, and it's...a good meal. A very _hot_ meal. But a good one.

Desmond knows better than to hope for things. He really does, after everything in his life that has happened (hell knew the instant his Dad left a damn permanent mark on his face), but for today.

In this moment.

Desmond hopes that things will go well for him.

Bayek warmth, gaze, and care make Desmond think that might be a reality.

Maybe.

  



End file.
